


The Warrior's Ending

by Telaryn



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe, Gen, Tahiti is a Magical Place, Valhalla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 12:11:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1898526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valhalla has a new soul, and Phil Coulson isn't sure which is stranger - the idea that he's here in the first place, or the thought that he might not be staying.  One thing he is sure of - he's not taking off his shirt any time soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Warrior's Ending

**Author's Note:**

> CatKing_CatKin and I talked about this possibly being the answer to T.A.H.I.T.I. after viewing Thor: The Dark World. I started playing with the idea, but never really got anywhere before it was joss'd. I am generally loathe to kill my stories while they're still "in the womb" as it were, and 2014 being the summer of clearing my WIP folder, I wrapped it up and here it is.

Even though he’d never been very religious, he’d grown up thinking that – if there was a heaven – it would be specific to each person’s life experience. And while he admittedly had some holes in his memory owing primarily to things best left forgotten, he was still fairly certain Valhalla connected to nothing in his roughly half-century of life as a human being.

 _Except how you died._ He rubbed a hand reflexively across his chest; every time he thought about the blow that had ended his life, his flesh ached in sympathy with the memory. He kept intending to look at whatever might be left of the wound, but the tunic he was wearing had no easy access for him to see underneath the rich velvet fabric. Stripping it off entirely wasn’t an option – he hadn’t been here a full day when he realized that losing articles of clothing in this place meant you were preparing to fight or fuck. And while he had no particular objection to either activity in principle, he had a lot he had to make peace with before he would be interested in something besides watching from the sidelines.

“Sif tells me you are unhappy.”

He turned automatically to face the speaker – some habits were so deeply ingrained they apparently survived death, even though Thor Odinson was the second to last person he wanted to talk to. “Not unhappy,” he said as coolly as he could manage, “just not entirely certain what I’m doing here. I am dead, yes?”

Thor had always struck him as a well-meaning, heavy metal surfer dude with a questionable IQ. Seeing him in his natural environment had been something of a revelation – the God of Thunder was even-tempered, intelligent, and with a heart big enough to be worried about one man in a sea of souls. “You are,” he said finally, looking as though he wished the answer could have been anything else. “You fell in battle with an Asgardian warrior – the nature of that fight and your heroic, selfless action in taking Loki on left you vulnerable to being taken by the Valkyries and brought here.”

 _Valhalla…_ He wasn’t surprised that hearing confirmation of his suspicions brought him no peace. “Does Fury know? What about the others?”

“Director Fury knows,” Thor admitted, looking even more uncomfortable. “We agreed the others shouldn’t be told until we know whether or not it’s possible to reverse what has happened.”

“Reverse,” he repeated, almost certain he’d heard Thor wrong. _So like Fury,_ he thought, snorting softly at the thought that his friend and superior officer would be so determined to find a way to cheat something as final as death.

Thor seemed to miss the irony. “I am not supposed to discuss details with you,” he admitted.

And that was Fury all over as well. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d stood by and watched the director play God with some poor soul’s life. He’d said nothing, and the irony was thick enough for him to choke on now. “So…what? I’m supposed to eat, drink and be merry while other people decide my fate?”

Obviously sensing the situation was more complicated than he first realized, Thor perched on the edge of a low wall. “Is the idea so horrible? I give you my word that none of this is charity or pity for your circumstances. You would not have a place here if you had not earned it.”

He could tell the Asgardian prince clearly believed what he was saying, but the idea that he could have done anything approaching the sort of legendary feats that were supposedly de rigeur requirements for entry into Valhalla made him feel extremely uncomfortable. “It’s a loophole,” he said finally – not wanting to offend his host, but incapable of letting things lie. “That’s all it is.”

Thor was silent for a long moment. “Is there anything I can say or do that would bring you peace?”

Heart heavy, he shook his head. “I am grateful for everything you’ve done and everything you’re trying to do. The only thing I would ask is that you do whatever you can to make sure your brother stays out of my way.” He paused. “And if you can’t do that, make sure that I have a sharp sword and the first shot.”


End file.
